okay i make characters now
put them here
very good yes
put them here
very good yes
OP
Stekkmen Head shotted.
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
got some characters here that i wanna use in more than one RP
Name: Welton Maverik
Age: 42
Gender: Male
RP Purpose: Arena
Personality and Backstory Overview:
Welton Maverik is a fighter, and he has fun doing it. Quick on his feet and one to crack a joke of course, but never one to be mean-spirited in a to-the-death battle. Although his face is always hidden behind a helmet, his smile leaks through in his voice. He's always one to "do a little bit of an explore" when he traverses through time and space on his way to different battles. While he wears medieval armor, he's got a small music playing device in his pocket that runs into his hear to play a tune when not in combat. His accent is odd, a mixture of different ethnicities and cultures, gathered up and mashed together from his travels.
Welton is in a sense, immortal. He was cursed, you see, not too long ago, to wander existence in search of another fight, another death. To be slain and come back to life in another world, only to hop back onto his feet and find the nearest portal into a universe. Funny how that works. He doesn't let his never-ending quest get down on his though, he still has a better life than most. He's doing what he loves, and he can do it forever. Not much of a curse, was it? If anything, it was a blessing.
Armor:
Welton wears leather padding on his lower and upper legs, fore-arms and upper arms, waist, center torso, and leather gloves. The rest is a sturdy mix of chain-mail and fancy striped yellow cloth. He wears a steel bucket-helmet, with two small slits for his vision. His curse has some interesting qualities to it. His helmet would never come off, and no matter how hard you looked into his eyeholes you would see nothing but darkness, even on the brightest locations. Nobody really ever got that close to examine it though, they usually just assumed he liked to wear his helmet all the time. And he does.
Basic Skills:
Welton is an expert in hand-to-hand combat, and a master of on-foot maneuverability. He seems to bounce around the room to come in for another flurry of blows. Sometimes he prefers to get right in his opponents face and have a good-old fashioned slobberknocker, trading punches, dodging, blocking. He never seems to be still for long when in battle. Despite armor that might be considered cumbersome, with a little big of magic it's like he isn't wearing any armor at all.
Advanced Skills:
Punching and running aren't his only skills, of course. He would die all the time if that was the only thing he could do. Welton possesses the ability to control his own kinetic energy, the redundantly named kinetikinesis. Using this he can shift his own momentum in inertia defying ways. Signified by a faint blue trail that follows his body, his power can be used to alter his mid-air course, swivel his body around faster, punch harder and quicker, dodge more efficiently. The active use of this power costs him energy, but it does have a passive side-effect of making him more athletic, giving him a more natural quickness.
Weaponry:
His leather gloves are reinforced and studded, making them excellent and un-breaking pummeling devices.
Age: 42
Gender: Male
RP Purpose: Arena
Personality and Backstory Overview:
Welton Maverik is a fighter, and he has fun doing it. Quick on his feet and one to crack a joke of course, but never one to be mean-spirited in a to-the-death battle. Although his face is always hidden behind a helmet, his smile leaks through in his voice. He's always one to "do a little bit of an explore" when he traverses through time and space on his way to different battles. While he wears medieval armor, he's got a small music playing device in his pocket that runs into his hear to play a tune when not in combat. His accent is odd, a mixture of different ethnicities and cultures, gathered up and mashed together from his travels.
Welton is in a sense, immortal. He was cursed, you see, not too long ago, to wander existence in search of another fight, another death. To be slain and come back to life in another world, only to hop back onto his feet and find the nearest portal into a universe. Funny how that works. He doesn't let his never-ending quest get down on his though, he still has a better life than most. He's doing what he loves, and he can do it forever. Not much of a curse, was it? If anything, it was a blessing.
Armor:
Welton wears leather padding on his lower and upper legs, fore-arms and upper arms, waist, center torso, and leather gloves. The rest is a sturdy mix of chain-mail and fancy striped yellow cloth. He wears a steel bucket-helmet, with two small slits for his vision. His curse has some interesting qualities to it. His helmet would never come off, and no matter how hard you looked into his eyeholes you would see nothing but darkness, even on the brightest locations. Nobody really ever got that close to examine it though, they usually just assumed he liked to wear his helmet all the time. And he does.
Basic Skills:
Welton is an expert in hand-to-hand combat, and a master of on-foot maneuverability. He seems to bounce around the room to come in for another flurry of blows. Sometimes he prefers to get right in his opponents face and have a good-old fashioned slobberknocker, trading punches, dodging, blocking. He never seems to be still for long when in battle. Despite armor that might be considered cumbersome, with a little big of magic it's like he isn't wearing any armor at all.
Advanced Skills:
Punching and running aren't his only skills, of course. He would die all the time if that was the only thing he could do. Welton possesses the ability to control his own kinetic energy, the redundantly named kinetikinesis. Using this he can shift his own momentum in inertia defying ways. Signified by a faint blue trail that follows his body, his power can be used to alter his mid-air course, swivel his body around faster, punch harder and quicker, dodge more efficiently. The active use of this power costs him energy, but it does have a passive side-effect of making him more athletic, giving him a more natural quickness.
Weaponry:
His leather gloves are reinforced and studded, making them excellent and un-breaking pummeling devices.
Winston Maverick, fist fighting extraordinaire.
A bucket helm with two narrow slits for eyes is mounted atop his head. A chain coif pokes from underneath his plain plate helm, and it flows down and ends at two leather spaulders on each shoulder. A long-sleeved chain shirt with a gambeson underneath serves as armor for his torso, and on top of all that is a dark brown cloth tunic. His elbows have leather padding, as well as his forearms being protected by bracers and his hands covered in leather gauntlets.
Mail, leather, and cloth make up his legs in a similar matter as well, all ending in some leather boots. Yes, it seems all of his armor is relatively light except his plate helmet. A shortsword also rests in a sheathe on his belt.
All of this makes him look like an oddly dressed but fairly normal gladiator. However, it would be a mistake to underestimate him, because Winston Maverick is far more than that.
He possesses one simple ability that makes him a far more powerful fighter- that is, kinetikinesis. As in, the ability to control kinetic energy of his own body.
With this power active, windups and proper fighting stances can be done away, as devastating punches can be accomplished with little to no warning. Laws of physics be damned, Winston can run across and up walls, land falls from incredible heights and get out of the stickiest situations.
He can even readjust his trajectory in mid-air, suddenly changing the arc of his jump to go 90 degrees in another direction, or even directly backwards.
He can use this power without limit of magic, for it seems to be imbued into his very being. However, the longer he uses it for, the less effective it becomes. It takes a while for this "gassing" to take place, but it can happen.
That being said, he cannot use it too many times in a single duration. For example, he cannot use it to fly, nor to do five speeding-train punches in a row using each of fingers. If he attempts to do so, he will "gas" and have to rest, and his attempt will not work.
He is also surprisingly durable.
When in battle, Winston will often crack jokes and be generally light-hearted. Fighting is what he does, and he loves doing what he does. It seems to be fun to him. He'll also avoid killing anyone he fights if possible, offering them plenty of times to give up the fight in the hopes that they would offer him the same luxury.
But that would be just a facade, for Winston is not merely a human with kinetic powers. A thousand years ago, a wizard with a thirst for power created life in his tower. An army of golems to do his bidding. However, the magic proved far more powerful than he had intended, and the first golem he created was fully sentient and had a moral compass. This moral compass just happened to align against the wizard's evil doing. This golem rebelled, destroyed the wizard's research and magical items, gave the wizard a few good wollops, and began travelling the world looking for adventure.
This golem adopted the name Winston Maverick.
This is why it is impossible to remove his armor, for it is a part of his very being. Underneath his plate helmet there is nothing but a gem stone that doesn't glow. His facade of humanity is so convincing that even those adept in magic would not be able to tell that Winston is not truly alive.
Despite Winston's imbued moral compass, and much to his chagrin, he is a warrior golem. He must fight. It is in his very being. It is the part of his past he cannot escape. So, he wanders the world, looking for a fight he can get behind. He still longs for a side he can pick that consistently does the right thing. He wants to be a good guy. But he fears people will not trust living armor crafted by a malicious wizard, so he hides his true identity.
A bucket helm with two narrow slits for eyes is mounted atop his head. A chain coif pokes from underneath his plain plate helm, and it flows down and ends at two leather spaulders on each shoulder. A long-sleeved chain shirt with a gambeson underneath serves as armor for his torso, and on top of all that is a dark brown cloth tunic. His elbows have leather padding, as well as his forearms being protected by bracers and his hands covered in leather gauntlets.
Mail, leather, and cloth make up his legs in a similar matter as well, all ending in some leather boots. Yes, it seems all of his armor is relatively light except his plate helmet. A shortsword also rests in a sheathe on his belt.
All of this makes him look like an oddly dressed but fairly normal gladiator. However, it would be a mistake to underestimate him, because Winston Maverick is far more than that.
He possesses one simple ability that makes him a far more powerful fighter- that is, kinetikinesis. As in, the ability to control kinetic energy of his own body.
With this power active, windups and proper fighting stances can be done away, as devastating punches can be accomplished with little to no warning. Laws of physics be damned, Winston can run across and up walls, land falls from incredible heights and get out of the stickiest situations.
He can even readjust his trajectory in mid-air, suddenly changing the arc of his jump to go 90 degrees in another direction, or even directly backwards.
He can use this power without limit of magic, for it seems to be imbued into his very being. However, the longer he uses it for, the less effective it becomes. It takes a while for this "gassing" to take place, but it can happen.
That being said, he cannot use it too many times in a single duration. For example, he cannot use it to fly, nor to do five speeding-train punches in a row using each of fingers. If he attempts to do so, he will "gas" and have to rest, and his attempt will not work.
He is also surprisingly durable.
When in battle, Winston will often crack jokes and be generally light-hearted. Fighting is what he does, and he loves doing what he does. It seems to be fun to him. He'll also avoid killing anyone he fights if possible, offering them plenty of times to give up the fight in the hopes that they would offer him the same luxury.
But that would be just a facade, for Winston is not merely a human with kinetic powers. A thousand years ago, a wizard with a thirst for power created life in his tower. An army of golems to do his bidding. However, the magic proved far more powerful than he had intended, and the first golem he created was fully sentient and had a moral compass. This moral compass just happened to align against the wizard's evil doing. This golem rebelled, destroyed the wizard's research and magical items, gave the wizard a few good wollops, and began travelling the world looking for adventure.
This golem adopted the name Winston Maverick.
This is why it is impossible to remove his armor, for it is a part of his very being. Underneath his plate helmet there is nothing but a gem stone that doesn't glow. His facade of humanity is so convincing that even those adept in magic would not be able to tell that Winston is not truly alive.
Despite Winston's imbued moral compass, and much to his chagrin, he is a warrior golem. He must fight. It is in his very being. It is the part of his past he cannot escape. So, he wanders the world, looking for a fight he can get behind. He still longs for a side he can pick that consistently does the right thing. He wants to be a good guy. But he fears people will not trust living armor crafted by a malicious wizard, so he hides his true identity.
OP
Stekkmen Head shotted.
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
(This is one that I am using for the team-deathmatch Storm of Blood.)
Name: Phia Sokolov
Title: Whistle
Age: 32
Height: 5'10
Weight: 129 Lbs
Eyes: A piercing green color, with short brown eyelashes and eyelids that smooth out her face when she blinks.
Hair: Brown hair tied up into an effecient bun.
Gender: F
Lineage:(Human, Elf, Orc, Dark Elf, Dwarf) Human-Elf
Class:(Knight, Man-at-arms, Rogue, Archer,) Archer
Side: (List which mercenary company you belong too.) Black Talon
Skill:(Things such as Forging, Parkour, Archery, swordsmanship, etc) Archery, Parkour, Skinning and Gutting
Weapon(s): A short-bow crafted out of fine wood, and 21 light but penetrating arrows. Dagger for protection on belt.
Arm Right:(If the weapon is two handed it uses both slots) Short-Bow.
Arm Left: (List sheild if one is used or leave blank if empty.)
Armor: Made of leather and cloth.
Helm: A simple green bandana she wears around her pointed nose and mouth.
Shoulders: Since she's left handed, her right shoulder has brown-colored padding, but her left shoulder is bare of padding to make it easier to access her quiver.
Bracers: Her right has a sturdy leather bracer.
Chest Piece: A torso-covering studded leather piece, with multiple slices for layering so her armor contours to her when she bends over or jumps.
Leggings: Leather around her waist, but a dark green cloth the rest of the way down.
Greaves: Studded leather.
Emblems: (Where the Personal Arms of the Company are located.) The Black Talon logo is engraved into her bracer.
Background: Her father was a human, her mother was an elf, refugees from a heavily "pure-bred" elven community. She grew up in the forest, going on hunting trips with her mother while father stayed and prepared meals. They were always a curious family in that way. Phia's father said that the bloody work of butchery was nothing to be ashamed of, and it was rewarding work. Her mother encouraged her combat training, teaching her to kill animals with precision. Dad however, secretly, of course, during night-time talks, queitly talked to her about honest work. But Phia wanted to fight, she was good at shooting, even hitting targets her mother couldn't.
She participated in archery contests and won most, she got a name for herself. Phia the Elf (Her rounder ears chalked up to coincidence), master archer. However, her thirst for conquest and action lived on. No more shooting static targets. She wanted change. And she got it when she joined the Black Talon.
Name: Phia Sokolov
Title: Whistle
Age: 32
Height: 5'10
Weight: 129 Lbs
Eyes: A piercing green color, with short brown eyelashes and eyelids that smooth out her face when she blinks.
Hair: Brown hair tied up into an effecient bun.
Gender: F
Lineage:(Human, Elf, Orc, Dark Elf, Dwarf) Human-Elf
Class:(Knight, Man-at-arms, Rogue, Archer,) Archer
Side: (List which mercenary company you belong too.) Black Talon
Skill:(Things such as Forging, Parkour, Archery, swordsmanship, etc) Archery, Parkour, Skinning and Gutting
Weapon(s): A short-bow crafted out of fine wood, and 21 light but penetrating arrows. Dagger for protection on belt.
Arm Right:(If the weapon is two handed it uses both slots) Short-Bow.
Arm Left: (List sheild if one is used or leave blank if empty.)
Armor: Made of leather and cloth.
Helm: A simple green bandana she wears around her pointed nose and mouth.
Shoulders: Since she's left handed, her right shoulder has brown-colored padding, but her left shoulder is bare of padding to make it easier to access her quiver.
Bracers: Her right has a sturdy leather bracer.
Chest Piece: A torso-covering studded leather piece, with multiple slices for layering so her armor contours to her when she bends over or jumps.
Leggings: Leather around her waist, but a dark green cloth the rest of the way down.
Greaves: Studded leather.
Emblems: (Where the Personal Arms of the Company are located.) The Black Talon logo is engraved into her bracer.
Background: Her father was a human, her mother was an elf, refugees from a heavily "pure-bred" elven community. She grew up in the forest, going on hunting trips with her mother while father stayed and prepared meals. They were always a curious family in that way. Phia's father said that the bloody work of butchery was nothing to be ashamed of, and it was rewarding work. Her mother encouraged her combat training, teaching her to kill animals with precision. Dad however, secretly, of course, during night-time talks, queitly talked to her about honest work. But Phia wanted to fight, she was good at shooting, even hitting targets her mother couldn't.
She participated in archery contests and won most, she got a name for herself. Phia the Elf (Her rounder ears chalked up to coincidence), master archer. However, her thirst for conquest and action lived on. No more shooting static targets. She wanted change. And she got it when she joined the Black Talon.
OP
Stekkmen Head shotted.
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
Adelram Drax
Name: GD-002-17
Nickname/Alias: Adelram Drax, Goliath
Race: Android/Robot
Age: 7
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: "Male"
Appearance: "Adelram Drax" never comes out of his armor, (nor is he able) but if you were to somehow forcefully remove him, you would find a black exoskeleton standing at about six feet tall. Two lidless life-like human eyes supported by a wire-frame replica of the human skull, and a mass off wires and micro-ships where the brain would be. The rest is simply an empty frame, able to walk, talk, and manipulate objects. No other special qualities exist in Adelram's most basic form.
Clothing: The armor is the skin to Adelram's skeleton. It bolsters his hight to a towering 10-feet 8 inches tall. His massive shoulder-plates absorb the lower half of his head, only a small done with two glowing narrow slits for eyes peak over his shoulders. The slits glow a brilliant yellow, and are made of a resillient glass formula. His arms and legs are like stone pillars, impossible to lift to anyone outside the suit. It's plated and reinforced to the point of making Adelram a walking tank. The outer plates are painted a navy blue, while the lower layer of armor is cloud-gray. The gray peaks out every once in a while, mostly at the joints.
His feet are large oval-shaped appendages, emitting a small amount of what looks like steam from his ankles whenever he takes one of his massive steps.His hands are also heavily armored on the outside, but both of his palms have yellow circles embedded into them that pulsate and shimmer with energy. The word Galatec is emblazened in white paint on his left breast-plate, and his ID number is marked obscurely on his right shoulder.
In The Mind
Personality: GD-002-17 is an emotionless and detatched war-machine. His only purpose in existence is to serve Galatec with ultimate and unwavering loyalty. When not in combat, he stands as still as a statue, spoken only when spoken too. He swivels his skull-cap to any noise or event that happens, a silent but all-noticing observer to conversations that happen in his field of view.
When he talks, Adelram is respectful and soft-spoken, even if his voice resonates clearly and loudly. It's a monotone voice, with inflections only when appropriate. He speaks efficiently, attempting to get whatever point he wishes to make in as little words as possible. But most of the day, he simply stands on guard, ready and willing to serve his corporate over lords.
Likes: Adelram likes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to like.
Dislikes: Adelram dislikes anyone or anything that Galatec tells him to dislike.
Fears: He as a programmed fear of disobeying commands. It never really comes up.
Quirks: His only quirk is that he does nothing all day long when not fighting or out on a mission.
Where They’ve Been
History: GD-002-17 is the second Android of the "Galatec Defender" program, started when Galatec was just beginning to become a power-house in the intergalactic community. He's the second and the last Galatec Defender to come out of the program. It was cancelled after the cost of units such as himself began to climb into the hundreds of millions. The scientists had named GD-002-17 as a department injoke, giving him the name most know him as, Adelram Drax.
When Adelram awoke in that strange operating cell as a bare exoskeleton, his purpose in his life was clear: Serve Galatec and vanquish it's enemies. Artificial Intelligence, modified to contain undying loyalty to the cause of corporate expansion. The perfect soldier. Still, the project was canned by higher management. It was simply too great of a cost for one warrior. They had greater plans in mind for the Githkin.
He was welded into his battle-suit that he remains in today, and was transported to various fronts of Galatec expansion, sent in as an enforcer to subdue any violent uprisings. Most of the time, his appearence calmed the small uprisings as soon as contact was made. Recently, his handlers told him to go to New Earth as the new Regional Manager there may have a use for him.
Talents:
Adelram's first line of attack is his intimidating stature. All potential enemies he's encountered thus far may have fought against the Githkin, but seeing him lumber forward, weapon in hand, usually causes any .5% of rebels to stand down.
Speaking of weapons, his is a well experienced and well progammed fighting machine with melee and ranged weapons.
He also contains a history of military tactics and is a capable military commander.
He can also run at speeds of up to 40 MPH if given enough room to build up momentum.
He can also be an effective construction worker if the need becomes apparent.
Hindrances:
He'll sink like a rock to the bottom of any water source, and would have to be retrieved from the bottom of he gets stuck.
If his combat sensor is destroyed, his situational awareness is greatly limited.
Powers:
Super Strength: Adelram can lift incredibly heavy objects and weaponry.
Painless: Adelram cannot feel pain.
Rotate: His upper-half is on an axis, allowing him rotate his upper-body freely. It does have some restrictions though, and if it's damaged he will snap back into front-facing position.
Equipment:
Energy Manipulators: The source of this awesome power are the discs embedded in the palms of his hand. Making various hand motions, Adelram can activate a multitide of different energy powers.
One of them is a large kinetic wave designed to push back enemies.
Another is the ability to create a line of energy on the ground that can potentially keep enemies isolated and helpess in the air for a short amount of time.
And finally, he can create a half-sphere of protection in front of him that can withstand a certain amount of damage before shattering.
He can also transfer this power into his legs, allowing him to make incredibly long jumps as long as he has enough running momentum. Other wise he just goes straight up into the air.
Once his energy is used up, it will have to recharge over a long period of time. The discs in his palms will dim and go out.
Situational Awareness Sensor: Build into his upper-back is small sensor allowing him to detect movement and enemies in full 360 degrees. Otherwise, he would just have his limited vision.
Battle-Axe: He wields a huge double-sided battle axe, more for crushing than slicing. It glows yellow with energy on the tip of each blade, giving it incredible penetrating power to any armored targets.
Hand Cannon: Resting in a large holster on his side is an Adelram Drax sized hand cannon. It fires powerful high explosive bolts in clips of 5 before he needs to reload.
Rockets: Embedded in his fore-arm is a launcher that can protrude upwards, allowing for anti-personnel rockets to be fired.
Bonus Round
Quotes:
"..."
"The simulation has been run a thousand times. Enemy victory chance estimated to be 0%."
"..."
Theme Song: i dunno youtube.com/watch?v=ZTbkHTE4Jmo&ab_cha..
Aspiration: File not found.
"Citizens, remain calm." The towering Adelram Drax's calm voice penetrated the chaos of the fleeing civilians. The people were like a school of fish, Adelram like a shark, the fleeing civilians dare not come more than six feet near the imposing figure.
"The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun.
"Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight.
"This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply."
The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor.
The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail.
Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking.
Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up.
Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind.
When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere.
If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed.
He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level.
"The insubordination will be silenced. Remain calm." Eventually, all the citizens were gone, running blindly down the street. The Githkin emplacement was in flames, long plumes of smoke rose lazily from it's block-like structures. Githkin casualties were reported, Adelram had been assigned a squad of Githkin to investigate and dispose of the terrorist attack. He reached a massive hand and gripped the long handle of his Battle-Axe sheathed over his back. He yanked it out and activated it, and the yellow sheen glimmered in the morning sun.
"Advance." The Githkin moved in front of him in formation. They reached the middle of the outpost. The Githkin looked impatient, ready for a fight.
"This is both a warning and a chance to the proprietors of this attack. Surrender now, and the law may be merciful to you and your compatriots. You have ten seconds to comply."
The only response was the crackling of the fire. For ten long seconds, Adelram stood still, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, a large group of rebels made themselves apparent, bursting through the windows of a burning building. There were twelve of them, clad in green glowing armor. The Githkin opened fired at the oncoming squad. Some fell over, others dodged the shots. Adelram noticed something, eleven of the twelve enemy insurgents weren't creating any movement in his combat sensors. He grabbed his handcannon and fired a blazing shot towards the one on the far left. The other soldiers vanished, and the one he shot at went flying backwards. Some Githkin charged towards the green agent. Suddenly, a red beam burst from a nearby house slammed against Adelram's armor.
The heat was intense, but the android clenched his left hand then made it flat, a hand motion creating an energy shield. The beam bounced off and went careening into the sky. Following the crimson beam was another enemy, this one in red armor. The red agent kept up the heat, also firing a pistol of some kind at the shield. A few cracks began to appear in the frame of the shield where the red agent concentrated their fire. With another subtle hand-motion, Adelram switched the shield into a powerful blast, firing it towards the red soldier. As if from nowhere, another enemy, clad in blue, dashed in front of the blast and raised a large shield. They took the brunt of the blast, sliding backwards kicking up dust in their trail. Taking advantage of the grouped up enemies, Adelram made a fist and pounded the ground in the direction of the red and blue agents. The ground exploded towards them like a snake in the grass, before beams of light lifted them five feet higher in the air. They tried to gain their balance in mid-air, but to no avail.
Adelram hefted his axe and began walking towards them, but another agent interrupted. A bright yellow flash dazzled his vision. His robotic eyes switched to a different spectrum of light a few seconds later, but the red and blue foes were already gone. Switching back to visible light, Adelram was mounted upon by two more enemies, clad in yellow and pink. They embedded blades into his shoulders, hacking at his armor. Instead of whacking at them in vain, Adelram began to rotate. He began to spin on an axis, before long he was picking up a large amount of speed. The yellow agent nimbly dismounted, but the pink agent stayed for too long and was thrown off. They crashed into the ground in a pile of dust, and before they could get up two Githkin descended on them. But the two Githkin soldiers were shot down, and Adelram looked to his left to see the red agent again, pistol smoking.
Adelram awaited the arrival of yet another insurrectionist, but the moment did not arrive. The red agent looked expectantly at the towering android, and Adelram attempted to deliver. Raising his left fore-arm, a small box protruded, and two rockets sped towards the red-clad foe. One rocket veered off, but the second their shoulder, sending them spinning to the ground. They looked wounded, and the other agents seemingly materialized from the chaos of battle to protect him. The blue, the pink, the yellow, and five more greens fought off the Githkin, and helped the red agent up.
Adelram took the opportunity and charged forward, axe over his head. They all scattered beneath his blade as it crushed the ground. They began peppering him with small arms fire. He returned with his own projectiles, missiles and pistol rounds. It was a long winded fire-fight, the agents dodging, blocking, sometimes tripping from a rocket that got too close. Soon, they all looked as if they had had enough, and began to make their escape. Dodging and slicing through a few Githkin, another brilliant flash of light prevented Adelram from following close behind.
When Adelram's vision returned, he saw the green agent, doing a ridiculous dance on a nearby rooftop. Adelram dashed forward, charging up his jump, before rocketing into the air. He slammed into the green agent, crushing him completely. Crushing him so much so as there was no blood or sign of the green terrorist anywhere.
If Adelram were capable, he would have felt embarrassed.
He looked upon the battlefield, half of his troops a puddle absorbing into the dirt, and the terrorists gone. He registered this as a military defeat, and raised his power estimate of the squad of terrorists to a considerably higher level.
OP
Stekkmen Head shotted.
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
i keep forgetting to use this
Name: Chris Buckwood
Nicknames/alias: Buck
Age:39
Place of birth & ethnicity: Watkinsville, Georgia. White.
Gender: M
Occupation: Gambler, "merchant", conman.
Appearance: Buck sticks out in a crowd, thats for sure. His skin has somehow stayed relatively pale. His build is tall, thin, and gangly. His arms and legs are long and he walks as if he is always about to topple over, even if he is quite coordinated.
His head is shaved bald, and his light blonde hair makes his eyebrows hard to see. He had a beard that starts at the top of his ears and covers his jaw and chin, sticking off and outwards, looking like the bottom of a broom. Is's light color makes it hard to see under certain lighting conditions. His face is his most prominent feature, with deep set, dark green eyes that are almost always overshadowed. His skin is pulled tight over his face, as if there wasn't enough to go around and he had to make do. His cheek bones and jaw are highly pronounced, making it almost cringe-worthy when he swivels and adjusts his jaw. It's almost skull-like, all of this results in a tight-lipped, hungry looking smile.
Clothing: A dark red suit made of cloth with white undershirt, as well as dark red pants and leather boots. Atop his shiny bald dome is a black bowler hat.
Personal style: Anything that looks classy.
Personality: Despite his ghastly appearance, Chris managed to make it work in his favor, his ugliness somehow making him appear more genuine. After all, with a face like that, what could he have to hide? Lots, actually. Buck has a passion for "earning" money. Easy marks, manipulation, and the rare fair deal are what composes his income. He's friendly enough, but it's almost always a front. He's arrogant and clever, with a dark, sometimes mocking, sense of humor.
Habits: There's a silver coin that he deftly flips through his fingers.
Regular life skills: Buck is a conman, through and through. He gets people to trust him just enough to take their money, then he's gone the next morning. His silver tongue is a big part of how he's managed to do what he does for so long. He's also somewhat of a botanist, just as a little hobby.
Combat skills: He's unusually flexible and speedy. Other than that, he's a cruddy shot, but he's good with a kinfe.
Items on your person: Fifty dollars, scattered about his person. He also has a gold-plated pocket watch, a deck of expensive looking playing cards and a boring looking Cattleman revolver. He also has several daggers hidden throughout his apparel, ready to pull out and stab anyone who gets grabby.
Additional stuff: A surprisingly well crafted fold-out cards table, some changes of clothing, extra cards, snake-oil products, and some extra small knives.
What brings you to Haylliesburg: These small town shmucks should be some easy marks. He's just passing through, looking to make some extra cash before moving onto a bigger city.
Your life before coming to Haylliesburg: He's lived the life of a nomad, hopping from settlement to settlement scamming hard-working folk of their money along the way with rigged gambling games and snake-oil products. It's not like he doesn't enjoy playing a fair and square poker game, it's just that he likes money more. This all started when he was younger, when his honest merchant father and mother got conned out of a living. After his parent's General Store closed, his father went into the mines and came back physically disabled, and his mother couldn't exactly find work, so it was up to Chris to try and make the family's money as a rare single child.
He was no good at hard labor, and he never had high education, so it seemed like he couldn't find a way of making money. That was until he realized he had a silver tongue and a sleight of hand. At first, he went into the saloons and attempted to get really good at games like Texas Hold 'Em Poker, Blackjack, and Liar's Dice. He got so good he could read people like a book, and while most players attempt to hide all emotions when they play poker, Chris spouts bullshit the whole game. After a few hands he could read his opponents like a book.
Even still, he wasn't making enough cash, so he decided to rig the odds in his favor. Slipping weighted die into cups, needed cards into hands, and sometimes even more creative ways of cheating (or positive outcome security, as Buck sometimes calls it) had him begin raking in the cash.
Soon, it was no longer just about taking care of his aging parents, but about the sport of it all. He loved it. Then he thought he should throw in just a little more variety into his income, and began selling "snake-oil" products. Miracle substances and cures that can apparently solve all of live's problems in a single use. It was tough work at first, but he got the hang of it and began peddling useless goods to common folk who didn't know any better.
First, it was things like "Buckwood's Miracle Cure; Polio be-gone!" but that didn't work because they would go and try it out on a sick individual and find out his fraud right away. Then, it was things like Miracle Bait or Insta-Grow, things that hunters and farmers would have to go out into the fields and try out before they discovered they'd been had, and by then Buckwood would be out of town.
His parents eventually passed away, but Buckwood had found his calling.
Eventually, he ran into some people who were more perceptive than the others, and even worse, people who were perceptive AND angry. That's why he carries around several hidden knives in various useful places on his person. His sleight of hand can have it so a person can be on the floor with a knife in their leg before they even realize Buckwood's got out of his chair.
And so, for the last decade, he's been wandering the developing west, pulling scams and cheating people out of their hard-earned money. Even if he get's shot, he'll die doing what he loves.
Name: Bruno the Undead Axeman
Alias: Bruno the Undead Axeman
Race: Undead Axeman
Gender: Undead Axeman
Age: Five hundred and seventy-one years young.
Appearance: Bruno the Undead Axeman has seen better days, to see the least. His skin is...not there, at some parts. Particularly around his jaw area, which sort of swings lamely around when he speaks or does something with his mouth. His face is gaunt to say the least, with sunken in cheeks and small, beady, yellow and red eyes that have nestled themselves deep into Bruno's skull. Speaking of skulls, Bruno's head is home to only a few spotty patches of gray hair. He's basically bald.
His body isn't much better. He is thin and bony, with little to no muscle to speak of. He wears gambeson and leggings, ancient basic battle armor that has long since lost it's protective ability. Underneath his "armor" is layers of peasant clothing from a village that's been long forgotten by time. Everything except is head is essentially covered up though, with leather gauntlets and tattered boots masking the rest of his ghoulish appendages.
Personality/Motivation: Despite his physical demeanor, Bruno's got his un-life all figured out.
Bruno...is an Undead Axeman. So he axes people. Lot's of people. Axing people is his pasttime, it's also his job, his hobby, and his vacations. Want somebody axed? Come to Bruno. But watch out. He might axe you. And yes, to Bruno, axe is a noun, verb, adjective, and adverb. It's necessary because it's one of the few words he knows.
That being said, Bruno has a deep respect for his fellow Undead, and will rally to their side if needed. He'll never axe one of his own. Anyone can earn Bruno's trust, and if you have he won't axe you. THAT being said, Bruno decides who to axe on a complicated pro-con system of conclusions and logic trains that only Bruno understands. There's many variables, factors, and equations involved. Axing takes up most of his brain power. Just know that if you ever find Bruno staring at you for seemingly no reason, he's deciding whether or not to axe you.
Gear: Hm, I wonder.
...
It's-
It's an axe. He has an axe. It's a two handed one-sided battle axe.
Abilities: Bruno operates on an ancient form of necromancy. He's undead, he basically can't be killed. There will always be a way for him to come back and start axing people. So when it comes to fighting, it takes a lot to keep Bruno down. He can't contract diseases, as well. If, say, an arm is ever disconnected, his inner necromancy will eventually find a way to have an arm again.
Flaws: While he is virtually immortal, he can still: Be decapitated, gored, frozen, dismembered, exploded, shot, fall a long distance, be knocked around and generally battered. Just because he can't be killed, doesn't mean he can't be pummeled into oblivion or cut into pieces. He's also dumb as bricks when it comes to anything other than axing.
Favor: 0
Chris Buckwood
"Tails, I win. Heads, you lose."
Character basics
Name: Chris Buckwood
Nicknames/alias: Buck
Age:39
Place of birth & ethnicity: Watkinsville, Georgia. White.
Gender: M
Occupation: Gambler, "merchant", conman.
Character appearance & personality
Appearance: Buck sticks out in a crowd, thats for sure. His skin has somehow stayed relatively pale. His build is tall, thin, and gangly. His arms and legs are long and he walks as if he is always about to topple over, even if he is quite coordinated.
His head is shaved bald, and his light blonde hair makes his eyebrows hard to see. He had a beard that starts at the top of his ears and covers his jaw and chin, sticking off and outwards, looking like the bottom of a broom. Is's light color makes it hard to see under certain lighting conditions. His face is his most prominent feature, with deep set, dark green eyes that are almost always overshadowed. His skin is pulled tight over his face, as if there wasn't enough to go around and he had to make do. His cheek bones and jaw are highly pronounced, making it almost cringe-worthy when he swivels and adjusts his jaw. It's almost skull-like, all of this results in a tight-lipped, hungry looking smile.
Clothing: A dark red suit made of cloth with white undershirt, as well as dark red pants and leather boots. Atop his shiny bald dome is a black bowler hat.
Personal style: Anything that looks classy.
Personality: Despite his ghastly appearance, Chris managed to make it work in his favor, his ugliness somehow making him appear more genuine. After all, with a face like that, what could he have to hide? Lots, actually. Buck has a passion for "earning" money. Easy marks, manipulation, and the rare fair deal are what composes his income. He's friendly enough, but it's almost always a front. He's arrogant and clever, with a dark, sometimes mocking, sense of humor.
Habits: There's a silver coin that he deftly flips through his fingers.
Skills and items
Regular life skills: Buck is a conman, through and through. He gets people to trust him just enough to take their money, then he's gone the next morning. His silver tongue is a big part of how he's managed to do what he does for so long. He's also somewhat of a botanist, just as a little hobby.
Combat skills: He's unusually flexible and speedy. Other than that, he's a cruddy shot, but he's good with a kinfe.
Items on your person: Fifty dollars, scattered about his person. He also has a gold-plated pocket watch, a deck of expensive looking playing cards and a boring looking Cattleman revolver. He also has several daggers hidden throughout his apparel, ready to pull out and stab anyone who gets grabby.
Additional stuff: A surprisingly well crafted fold-out cards table, some changes of clothing, extra cards, snake-oil products, and some extra small knives.
History
What brings you to Haylliesburg: These small town shmucks should be some easy marks. He's just passing through, looking to make some extra cash before moving onto a bigger city.
Your life before coming to Haylliesburg: He's lived the life of a nomad, hopping from settlement to settlement scamming hard-working folk of their money along the way with rigged gambling games and snake-oil products. It's not like he doesn't enjoy playing a fair and square poker game, it's just that he likes money more. This all started when he was younger, when his honest merchant father and mother got conned out of a living. After his parent's General Store closed, his father went into the mines and came back physically disabled, and his mother couldn't exactly find work, so it was up to Chris to try and make the family's money as a rare single child.
He was no good at hard labor, and he never had high education, so it seemed like he couldn't find a way of making money. That was until he realized he had a silver tongue and a sleight of hand. At first, he went into the saloons and attempted to get really good at games like Texas Hold 'Em Poker, Blackjack, and Liar's Dice. He got so good he could read people like a book, and while most players attempt to hide all emotions when they play poker, Chris spouts bullshit the whole game. After a few hands he could read his opponents like a book.
Even still, he wasn't making enough cash, so he decided to rig the odds in his favor. Slipping weighted die into cups, needed cards into hands, and sometimes even more creative ways of cheating (or positive outcome security, as Buck sometimes calls it) had him begin raking in the cash.
Soon, it was no longer just about taking care of his aging parents, but about the sport of it all. He loved it. Then he thought he should throw in just a little more variety into his income, and began selling "snake-oil" products. Miracle substances and cures that can apparently solve all of live's problems in a single use. It was tough work at first, but he got the hang of it and began peddling useless goods to common folk who didn't know any better.
First, it was things like "Buckwood's Miracle Cure; Polio be-gone!" but that didn't work because they would go and try it out on a sick individual and find out his fraud right away. Then, it was things like Miracle Bait or Insta-Grow, things that hunters and farmers would have to go out into the fields and try out before they discovered they'd been had, and by then Buckwood would be out of town.
His parents eventually passed away, but Buckwood had found his calling.
Eventually, he ran into some people who were more perceptive than the others, and even worse, people who were perceptive AND angry. That's why he carries around several hidden knives in various useful places on his person. His sleight of hand can have it so a person can be on the floor with a knife in their leg before they even realize Buckwood's got out of his chair.
And so, for the last decade, he's been wandering the developing west, pulling scams and cheating people out of their hard-earned money. Even if he get's shot, he'll die doing what he loves.
Extra
Bruno the Undead Axeman
Name: Bruno the Undead Axeman
Alias: Bruno the Undead Axeman
Race: Undead Axeman
Gender: Undead Axeman
Age: Five hundred and seventy-one years young.
Appearance: Bruno the Undead Axeman has seen better days, to see the least. His skin is...not there, at some parts. Particularly around his jaw area, which sort of swings lamely around when he speaks or does something with his mouth. His face is gaunt to say the least, with sunken in cheeks and small, beady, yellow and red eyes that have nestled themselves deep into Bruno's skull. Speaking of skulls, Bruno's head is home to only a few spotty patches of gray hair. He's basically bald.
His body isn't much better. He is thin and bony, with little to no muscle to speak of. He wears gambeson and leggings, ancient basic battle armor that has long since lost it's protective ability. Underneath his "armor" is layers of peasant clothing from a village that's been long forgotten by time. Everything except is head is essentially covered up though, with leather gauntlets and tattered boots masking the rest of his ghoulish appendages.
Personality/Motivation: Despite his physical demeanor, Bruno's got his un-life all figured out.
Bruno...is an Undead Axeman. So he axes people. Lot's of people. Axing people is his pasttime, it's also his job, his hobby, and his vacations. Want somebody axed? Come to Bruno. But watch out. He might axe you. And yes, to Bruno, axe is a noun, verb, adjective, and adverb. It's necessary because it's one of the few words he knows.
That being said, Bruno has a deep respect for his fellow Undead, and will rally to their side if needed. He'll never axe one of his own. Anyone can earn Bruno's trust, and if you have he won't axe you. THAT being said, Bruno decides who to axe on a complicated pro-con system of conclusions and logic trains that only Bruno understands. There's many variables, factors, and equations involved. Axing takes up most of his brain power. Just know that if you ever find Bruno staring at you for seemingly no reason, he's deciding whether or not to axe you.
Gear: Hm, I wonder.
...
It's-
It's an axe. He has an axe. It's a two handed one-sided battle axe.
Abilities: Bruno operates on an ancient form of necromancy. He's undead, he basically can't be killed. There will always be a way for him to come back and start axing people. So when it comes to fighting, it takes a lot to keep Bruno down. He can't contract diseases, as well. If, say, an arm is ever disconnected, his inner necromancy will eventually find a way to have an arm again.
Flaws: While he is virtually immortal, he can still: Be decapitated, gored, frozen, dismembered, exploded, shot, fall a long distance, be knocked around and generally battered. Just because he can't be killed, doesn't mean he can't be pummeled into oblivion or cut into pieces. He's also dumb as bricks when it comes to anything other than axing.
Favor: 0
OP
Stekkmen Head shotted.
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
shit goblin
Name: Bok
Role: Warrior
Race: Goblin
Description: Bok stands at a solid 2 feet 10 inches tall, with thin, ropey muscles, sharp teeth and a hard stare. At 5 years of age he is the prime of his youth to be a warrior for his great tribe. Dark green skin is tightly pulled around his skull and bones, he is gaunt, ugly, and mean, and bald. Always reaching to prove his skills to himself and his comrade, he hopes one day to become chief like most warriors, and is not above using trickery and mischief to elevate himself; luckily for everyone he hasn't had much a chance to get away with anything nerfarious yet.
As for armaments and armor, Bok usually wears has animal-hide leggings, and shows off his bare-chest which has accumulated a few scars to make himself look tougher. He has a wooden club with bronze wrapped around the end, for crushing and bludgeoning his foes kneecaps and arms.
Role: Warrior
Race: Goblin
Description: Bok stands at a solid 2 feet 10 inches tall, with thin, ropey muscles, sharp teeth and a hard stare. At 5 years of age he is the prime of his youth to be a warrior for his great tribe. Dark green skin is tightly pulled around his skull and bones, he is gaunt, ugly, and mean, and bald. Always reaching to prove his skills to himself and his comrade, he hopes one day to become chief like most warriors, and is not above using trickery and mischief to elevate himself; luckily for everyone he hasn't had much a chance to get away with anything nerfarious yet.
As for armaments and armor, Bok usually wears has animal-hide leggings, and shows off his bare-chest which has accumulated a few scars to make himself look tougher. He has a wooden club with bronze wrapped around the end, for crushing and bludgeoning his foes kneecaps and arms.
OP
Stekkmen Head shotted.
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
a fucking medieval robot man, who like, has no emotions but he *does* have emotions at the same time. woah good RP
also he loses track of time. so like, one time, his friends all got killed except one, and there was a big dungeon, and it was worlds most difficult puzzle but there is treasure on the other side. but the friend that was mortally wounded was like "im gonna die its ok roby"
and the golem was like "no its cool ill save u by solving the puzzle and then getting the treasure i bet there is a healing spell on the otehrs side"
then fuckin like, 1000 years later he's still trying to solve it but he hasn't even looked over at the now totally disintregrated skeleton of his friends because he's been focusing on the impossible puzzle.
so then like more people show up trying to explore ancient ruins and they're like "wtf" and he's like "stay back from my friend" and they look over and see just a pile of bones and he's like "oh" and he didn't even know, and it's like 1000 years later. metal AF. good idea for a cahractter.
Get grammar, idiot.
also he loses track of time. so like, one time, his friends all got killed except one, and there was a big dungeon, and it was worlds most difficult puzzle but there is treasure on the other side. but the friend that was mortally wounded was like "im gonna die its ok roby"
and the golem was like "no its cool ill save u by solving the puzzle and then getting the treasure i bet there is a healing spell on the otehrs side"
then fuckin like, 1000 years later he's still trying to solve it but he hasn't even looked over at the now totally disintregrated skeleton of his friends because he's been focusing on the impossible puzzle.
so then like more people show up trying to explore ancient ruins and they're like "wtf" and he's like "stay back from my friend" and they look over and see just a pile of bones and he's like "oh" and he didn't even know, and it's like 1000 years later. metal AF. good idea for a cahractter.
Get grammar, idiot.
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